


Father of the Groom

by lizandletdie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rumbelle Revolution, Rumbelle is Hope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:37:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8669734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizandletdie/pseuds/lizandletdie
Summary: Lucas Gold's son is getting married, and he's spending a lot of time avoiding his family by sitting in a hotel bar -- enough time that he's got the waitress pretty worried about him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Rumbelle Revolution on Tumblr.

Theoretically, having your only son get married should be a happy occasion and while Lucas Gold was thrilled to see his son finally settling down, the idea of spending an entire God forsaken weekend with his ex-wife and his estranged father was giving him hives. He was, at this moment, supposed to be at a ‘get to know everyone’ brunch with his future in-laws, but his ex had brought her new boyfriend and Lucas didn’t want to meet him _and_ the bride’s family in the same meal, so instead he’d made an excuse and hid in the hotel bar. It was 11 am, and he was in a bar. It was really pretty pitiful.

The bar at least had food you could order, so he was drinking a beer (he couldn’t quite bring himself to order hard liquor before noon) and eating onion rings and hoping against hope his father wouldn’t turn up and really complete the event. The last thing he needed was a drunken Malcolm showing up. His father was ostensibly sober, having gone through eight or nine steps out of the twelve, but he’d been on and off the wagon as long as Lucas could possibly remember and if anything sobriety made him even less pleasant to be around because he was exponentially more likely to notice the slightest flaw. It was really going to be a rough wedding all around.

“You doing okay?” the waitress asked as she set another beer down in front of him. She was a pretty brunette with a worried expression on her face, and he half wondered if she was new, because a middle aged man eating greasy bar food before noon can’t be _that_ uncommon even at a nice hotel.

“I’m fine,” he replied. “Just peachy.”

“It doesn’t sound like it,” she said. “You sure you don’t wanna talk about it? I’ve been told I’m a real good listener.”

She probably was. Bar waitresses were always good listeners, a fact he’d learned when he was nine or ten and his father would take him to the bar to play pinball until last call. The waitresses had been the closest things to companions he’d had and had checked in on him far more than his father did. It was just a whole can of worms he didn’t feel like opening here.

“It’s nothing,” he said at last. “Just family things. I’m sure you know how that is.”

She gave him a sympathetic look and patted his shoulder before she returned to the back with her tray.

His phone buzzed with a text message from his son asking where he was. He wanted to answer it, but he didn’t have an excuse. He _should_ have been at that brunch – he’d even gotten dressed for it – but he just about had a panic attack in the elevator and ended up hiding in the bar with greasy food and the beer. He was legitimately terrible.

 

There was no getting out of the rehearsal dinner of course. At least his father wasn’t invited to that part, though he would have to suffer the presence of his ex-wife. Not that there was a lot for him to do besides sit there while he watched his son and to-be-daughter-in-law go through the ins and outs of what was to come the next day. He also couldn’t skip the dinner, since that was the part he was supposed to pay for and his father _would_ be at that.

Watching the ceremony (even if it wasn’t the real one yet) stopped his heart. He was so happy for Neal, and Emma seemed like a really sweet girl. He wished he was making a better impression, but by the time the dinner rolled around Lucas could tell his father was drinking and hitting on the waitresses. So much for the twelve steps, apparently. Thankfully, Malcolm Gold was an experienced enough drunk that Lucas was sure nobody else would notice, but nobody else had seen him at his worst.

Lucas stayed just long enough for the toasts before having the waitress put his card on file to cover the meal (and cut his father off). If he was going to get away without making a scene, he needed to just slip out as quietly as possible. Milah had already been making a show out of how happily engaged she was (for the third consecutive year) and making jokes about catching the bouquet. It was going to be a long weekend.

He found himself back in the same bar as before, but he had no idea why he was so damn compelled to go in. Maybe it was true that you always reenact your biggest traumas.

“Back again?” the waitress said sweetly as soon as he settled on one of the stools. “Did you miss me that much?”

She was flirting, but she worked on tips so it was to be expected. Anyway, as long as he didn’t sleep with her and give her a fake name he’d be coming out ahead of his father so he wasn’t going to feel so very bad about it.

“My son is getting married here tomorrow,” he said. “There’s a lot of festivities.”

“Ohh you’re part of the wedding!” she said. “I saw the cake this morning. It looks great!”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to be working it.”

“Nah, I’m actually off tomorrow. But I’m sure it’ll be great.”

He smiled and ordered a drink. He could barely taste it when it came, but that was alright – he probably shouldn’t be drinking anyway if he didn’t want to end up like his father, but this was honestly the most he’d had in close to a decade and probably the most he’d have for the next decade until somebody died and he had to face his father again for the funeral. She was friendly, but didn’t ask him what was wrong again and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He didn’t want to talk about it, but he kind of did, too, and the more shots he had the more he really wanted her attention.

That was probably a sign that he’d had too much to drink, but there was nothing for it at that point. It felt like too good an idea to linger far later than necessary. She went away for a little while and when she came back she sat down next to him with her own drink.

“You ready to talk about it?” she asked. “I’m off the clock now, so I’ve got time.”

“You don’t have to stay with me,” he replied. “I know you’ve been here awhile.”

“I usually get something to drink after work anyway, and besides my ride is my friend Ruby and she has another hour left of work.”

“It’s really nothing. Or it shouldn’t be. My son is getting married.”

“And you don’t like his fiancee?”

“She seems very nice, actually. From what I’ve seen.”

“So then what’s the problem?”

“My ex-wife is here with her new fiance.”

“And who are you here with?”

“Nobody, actually. Well, my drunk father but to be honest I’d rather go on a long weekend with my ex than spend a lunch with that drunken bastard.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, and suddenly her hand was on his knee. “That’s gotta be rough.”

Shit. He somehow had not seen _that_ coming, and even with his buzz he could think of a list of reasons it wasn’t a good idea, but it felt so nice to have someone not look down on him for the first (and possibly last) time this weekend.

“I’m Lucas, by the way,” he blurted out, offering her his hand. “Lucas Gold.”

“Belle French,” she said, taking her hand from his knee to shake his hand. “So do you live around here?”

“Not too far. I’m mostly staying in the hotel because I was going to have to drive back and forth so much for all the events.”

“That’s cool.”

She didn’t seem to know what to say after that, and neither did he. She was definitely coming on to him – that hand on his knee had been pretty hard to misinterpret even if he’d wanted to – and she probably expected an invitation up to his room. It was tempting, even if he wasn’t completely sure she’d accept, but sleeping with a bar waitress ten minutes after she told him her name was something his father would do.

“How long have you worked here?” he asked her instead.

“Not too long. It wasn’t my first choice after college, but you know how the economy is right now.”

He nodded and quickly finished his drink before he could do something he’d regret later.

“I should probably get back upstairs,” he said at last. “I’ve got a long day tomorrow and it’s going to start plenty early.”

“Oh, okay. Have a good night!”

She sounded a little disappointed, but he wasn’t going to make that particular mistake.

 

Belle really hadn’t planned on running into him again after that. She’d made a move and he’d rejected her, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit bad for him either way. It was bad enough going to family holidays when she was single, she couldn’t imagine going to a wedding single when you were stuck with an ex flaunting a new partner and a father who you couldn’t stand. How bad could it really be that he had been compelled to hit a hotel bar for two solid meals rather than spend time with them?

She probably would have left it alone, except she had to borrow Ruby’s car to go to her dad’s birthday party that day and, as if by some weird stroke of fate, Ruby was working the wedding.

By the time Belle was back from the party to return her friend’s car, the reception was in full swing. Meals had been eaten and the dance floor was full of couples. She had lurked at the door until she caught her friend’s eye to return the key, but while she was searching for Ruby she was also searching for Lucas Gold. She’d been a little worried about him all day, because he certainly hadn’t been in a good place when he’d left her last night and her fears were confirmed when she finally realized he wasn’t there.

She found him at the hotel bar again, and plopped down into the seat next to him without saying anything.

“That bad?” she asked him.

He seemed startled to see her, but he smiled a little bit and almost looked relieved.

“I thought you had the day off,” he said. “But you look nice.”

“I had to drop by to give my friend her car keys. It was my dad’s birthday today so we all went out to a nice restaurant. I don’t _just_ wear a uniform.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“I didn’t think you did,” she said gently, wrapping her hand around his and pulling the glass of whiskey out of his hand. “But I think you’ve probably had enough to drink this weekend.”

“Probably. God, I shouldn’t even be drinking at all.”

“What’s so bad?”

“Ask your friend about my father,” he replied. “I’m sure she’ll have some _delightful_ stories to tell you about his behavior tonight.”

“And your ex?”

“Well, at least she hasn’t been trying to feel up any of the waitresses.”

She shouldn’t be worried about him, but Belle was the sort who always cared about people, and he just seemed to really need somebody to care about him for a little while. Plus, if she was going to be brutally honest, he looked really nice in a suit and she’d always enjoyed that in a man.

“Was it a bad divorce?”

“I don’t know that there’s such a thing as a _good_ divorce, but she left me for this guy she brought to the wedding.”

“That sucks.”

He laughed at that and nodded.

“It really does,” he said. “I should be enjoying the wedding, but I really just wish they’d all go home and leave me be.”

She took a deep breath and thought about it for a little bit. She had no responsibilities for him, but even beyond feeling bad for him the idea of him being unable to enjoy his child’s wedding because of this broke her heart. She couldn’t do much about a lecherous father, but well, there might actually be something she _could_ do about the ex-wife situation.

“Would you like to get back at her?” she asked him.

“I should probably be the bigger man and say ‘no,’ but you certainly have my attention.”

“Follow me,” she said, hopping off the stool and leading him into the reception hall. She wasn’t too worried about being removed when she was with the groom’s father, and nobody who didn’t work here would recognize her in her dress. She might have been a hair underdressed for a wedding, but not obviously out of place as she brought him to the edge of the dance floor and smiled as prettily as she could.

“Which one is your ex?” she asked.

“The brunette talking to the bride,” he said, nodding towards the head table where she could see a woman about his age chatting and laughing with the wedding party. The other woman did glance over to them, and Belle instantly brought her eyes back to Lucas.

“Let’s dance,” she said. “It’s a slow song, she’ll hate it.”

She could see realization dawning on his face as he realized precisely what was going on, and he smiled as she put her hand on his shoulder and let him lead her through the dance. Belle made a point of keeping her eyes on his face the entire time. She could feel people looking at them, but that had been the point of all this and letting on that it was all an intentional thing would just ruin it all.

“You can kiss me when the song ends,” she said as naturally as she could manage. “If you want to.”

He closed his eyes, and she felt his hand at her waist pull her just a little bit tighter.

“You don’t have to do that,” he replied.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to. Besides, I’m pretty sure your ex would completely gag on it.”

“Don’t tempt me. I might take you up on it just to spite her.”

“Am I a temptation, then?”

She meant it as a joke but he looked away and she knew then that she’d hit a nerve. He was tempted, and she would have only had to push a little bit harder if she’d wanted more.

“I’d like to get your phone number later,” he said. “If you don’t mind.”

“I’d like that too,” she replied, with a glance over his shoulder to the bridal party. “But I’m going to kiss you right now, okay?”

He gave her a quick nod and she moved her hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck to pull him down enough to press her lips to his. He was a really good kisser, and by the time they parted she was disappointed to lose the contact.

“Wow,” she said because she couldn’t quite stop herself.

“Thank you,” he said, sounding a little shocked. “That was…”

“Kiss me again,” she interrupted. “It’s working.”

His ex was sitting at a table just to the edge of Belle’s eyeline and she was clearly pissed off about something, and God willing it was this.

He didn’t need to be told twice, and this time his hands were in her hair as he held her gently and kissed her deeper than before. His lips were soft and demanding this time, and by the time this kiss broke apart she was feeling a little unsteady on her feet. Damn. He had better fucking call her after this, because she did really want to get to know him better. This was magic.

It took Belle a little while to get her bearings back together, but once she had there was really only one thing left to do.

“You need to lead me back out of the room,” she said. “Because sooner or later someone is going to figure out that nobody knows me.”

“Right That’s a good idea.”

He took her hand and the pair of them quickly worked their way back through the crowd and back out into the relatively empty hallway.

“Thank you again,” he said. “That was....”

“You wanted my phone number?”

“Right, yes. Yes I did.”

He fumbled through his pockets until he found his phone and handed it to her, and she put her name into it and sent herself a text message. She wasn’t taking any chances on this one, it was rare to get kissed like that.

She was a little bit disappointed to hand him the phone back, because it meant that she didn’t have any more excuses to prolong contact and she really wanted to get kissed like that again.

“Would you like to get something to eat?” he asked and she could have fainted from relief.

“Yes!” she said quickly. “There’s a diner across the street?”

She’d already eaten and so had he, but she could pick at a plate of fries and talk to him some more when he wasn’t drinking. He looked so relieved she’d said yes, but she was ridiculously pleased that he’d asked her. She’d wanted to go back to his room the night before, but this held so much more potential than that, and there was no way she was going to be satisfied with one night if he was as good in bed as he was at kissing.


End file.
